Lesser Things
by burning-with-us
Summary: Set during the 76th Hunger Games. Following the tributes from the Capitol during the final games in history. Who will be Victor? What will happen afterwards?
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: This was written only as fanfiction. All rights etc. go to the amazing Suzanne Collins!**

I wake up with a ringing in my ears. My cheeks are wet from tears and my chest burns. Today is the day of the Reaping. It is the first time in history that children of the Capitol will be the sole competitors, so naturally I dreamt only of the games and the terrors that may await me if I am one of the twenty-four to be reaped.

I manage to coax myself out of bed and into the shower. I stand in the water without bothering to wait for it to warm up. When I come out of the bathroom, I find a small stack of clothes waiting for me on my bed. My mother must have put them there for me.

Despite the fact that citizens of the Capitol seem to gravitate towards very extravagant clothing, the things my mother wear always tend to be quite plain - that's how I'm sure that the pale pink linen dress she left for me must have been hers. There's something beautifully elegant in the simplicity of my mother's outfits.

I walk downstairs to the kitchen once I'm dressed, running my fingers over the smooth fabric as I go. I find my mother resting on the windowsill at the other end of the room, a mug of hot coffee in her hands. Her hair is pinned up behind her ears, framing her face and her long blonde curls cascade down her back. I'm sure she is beautiful to those her age - she is to me. She glances up when I walk in, her eyes settling on my outfit. She smiles.

"I've always wanted to see you in that dress," she says. Her voice is smooth and calming. I try to return the smile, but my lip quivers and I'm suddenly afraid I might burst into tears. I don't want to leave her. I can't leave her.

I sit at the table and my mother sets a plate of food in front of me. My eyes scan over the fruit and toast. My appetite is close to non-existent, but I try to swallow a few pieces of apple anyway. As I eat, my mother combs through my hair. It's brown, unlike hers, but it falls into the same, soft ringlets. I don't look much like my mother. Her face is soft and rounded and she has a long slender nose. I have a small nose and my cheekbones stick out at harsh angles.

We spend the next few hours waiting. The Reaping is not something I'm keen to be early for. My mother sits in the chair by the fireplace, humming quietly, and I sit on the edge of the chair opposite her, tapping my foot nervously. I watch the hands of the clock move around so intensely that my vision becomes blurry.

One o'clock.

Gently, my mother rises from her chair and takes my hand. She gives it a reassuring squeeze as I stand, but I still feel like I might crumble under the weight of my own panic.

Once we reach the City Circle, my mother takes me in her arms.

"Just be brave, darling," she says. "I love you, remember that." She releases me and kisses me between my brows before disappearing into the crowd. I can feel the moisture gathering in my eyes. I close them. _Not here, _I think. I bat the tears from my eyelashes and take a deep breath. From here on, I'm alone. I glance around nervously, trying to figure out what I'm now supposed to do. I see a cluster of children in brightly coloured clothes gathered around a desk. I guess that's where I should be. Roughly, I stand in the queue and watch the other children pass. As I get closer to the table, I see the line of peacekeepers sat on the other side. They seem to be pricking everyone's finger with a small needle. I think the boy in front of me is crying.

"Next," a peacekeeper calls. I lean over and the peacekeeper takes my hand. He pricks my finger and I wince, even though it didn't really hurt.

I squeeze my finger into my palm as I search for my place in the crowd of children. The City Circle has been divided up into 7 sections, each with a sign labelled with an age group, twelve through to eighteen. Eventually, I find the group labelled "17" and stand next to a girl I recognize from school. She looks tense and doesn't acknowledge me, so I turn my attention to the stage.

Since there are no districts in the Capitol, only one Reaping will be taking place. They decided that because of this, there is also no need for escorts. Therefore, Caesar Flickerman, who usually hosts the interviews for the Games, will be the one to choose the tributes. Caesar walks onto the stage and stands behind the podium, between the two large glass balls containing the slips of paper with each child's name on. His hair, which changes colour every year, is dusty-orange. He clears his throat and begins to address the crowd.

"Happy Hunger Games!" he begins. He says it with a smile on his face, but it doesn't travel to his eyes and his voice isn't as crisp as usual. I wonder if he has any children of his own. "As you are all aware, this year, the Capitol itself has the pleasure of being the sole participants in the seventy-sixth Hunger Games."

_"Pleasure" _I repeat in my head. It's almost sad how much effort has been put into making these games seem like any other. Caesar goes on to explain how this year's games will work, since there are a lot of rule changes to adapt the games for the Capitol.

His voice is barely a murmur in my ears and I focus my attention on the glass ball that sits to Caesar's left. That is the ball containing the girl's names. Since children of the Capitol have much better living conditions than those of the children from the districts, there is no need for tesserae. Nevertheless, being seventeen, there are five slips of paper in that ball with my name on.

Slowly, Caesar makes his way to the glass ball on his right. He hesitates briefly before pulling out a slip of paper.

"Rodegen Wardell"

Heads dart around the crowds to find the first tribute. The screen behind Caesar's head focuses on a boy. He doesn't look particularly strong, but he's tall. So tall in fact, that his head sticks up above everyone else's. He has striking facial features which appear to have been emphasised by dark makeup.

Since the decision to have Capitol children compete was only decided last year, after the rebellion, there are no Careers this year. Nobody has the unfair advantage of being trained their whole childhood, like many children from districts 1,2 and 4. The most anyone can hope to do to seem intimidating is to alter their appearance. Judging by Rodegen's glowing red eyes, he's already put this idea into full effect.

Once Rodegen has positioned himself on stage, Caesar moves to the other bowl to pick the first female tribute.

"Satia Poytler"

A sigh shudders through my body. Even though there's still eleven names to be picked from that ball, I feel relief that I'm at least one down.

Satia has her eyes fixed on the floor, so intently that I'm almost curious about what she's looking at. Her hair is pale pink, like my dress, and has been braided down her back. Thin strips of glittery, periwinkle ribbon are woven throughout her hair and she has a matching dress that flows from the waist down and stops mid-thigh. Her small build suggests that she isn't more than fourteen. I'm not sure if it is intentional, but she reminds me of some kind of fairy.

Caesar moves back and forth between the two glass balls, each time pulling out a new slip of paper containing the name of a child that most likely won't be alive in a month. I've trained my eyes on the floor, trying to block out my surroundings and forget where I am. I listen as Caesar walks back towards the boy's ball for the final time.

"Jasper Adkins"

My head springs up. I don't recognize the boy walking out of the "18" section, but for some reason his name is familiar to me. Jasper shakes hands with Caesar and joins the line with the other tributes. His brown hair falls in short waves over his brows, casting a slight shadow over his honey-brown eyes. He's handsome.

I'm so engrossed in figuring out why the name "Jasper Adkins" seems familiar to me, that I don't even notice Caesar move back to the girl's ball until he calls her name.

Until he calls _my_ name.

"Elliana Fortrim"

My whole body becomes heavy. Someone behind me nudges me forward and the crowd begins to form a path for me as I move toward the stage. My palms are sweaty and I start to shiver, even though it's mid-July.

_"Be Brave"_ my mother said. I need to be brave, otherwise I will be seen as an easy target. _Not like it matters,_ I think._ I'm dead anyway._ I lift my eyes from the ground and raise my head. I try to look confident, but my legs feel like they're going to collapse with every step. I take my place at the end of the line. Caesar congratulates me and I try to say something back, but there's a lump in my throat that blocks my words and a distorted noise somewhere between a whimper and a grunt escapes my mouth instead. I search for my mother in the crowd, but my eyes are blurry from tears and all I can see is a swirl of different colours.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," I hear Caesar say, "I give you the Tributes of the seventy-sixth annual Hunger Games!"


	2. Chapter 2

Peacekeepers guard us from every angle as we are lead through a door and down a maze of corridors. I use this opportunity to take a glimpse at the other tributes.

I see Rodegen's head poking up above the group. He's at the front. Something about him makes me uneasy, but I'm not sure why. Scurrying next to me is a pudgey, stubby boy. He's short, but he's wearing a green wig the size of my shin so he levels out to be almost as tall as Rodegen. He stumbles into me every few yards, as if his wig is throwing him off balance.

Just ahead of me is a very small girl and a boy who's not much taller. The pair of them can't be more than 13. My chest aches for them, it's highly unlikely that they will make it far.

I'm close to the back of the group, but I crane my neck around anyway to see whoever is behind me. My eyes settle on Jasper. He smiles at me weakly and then shifts his gaze to the floor.

We are led down a very long corridor and then, one by one, are each directed into a room. The room I am put in is decorated very simply - by Capitol standards. There is a couch in the centre of the room and a desk by the wall. A single lamp stands in the corner of the room, casting an eerie glow on the furniture. Just as I take a seat on the couch, the door swings open.

It's my mother.

I'd practically forgotten that I am even given an opportunity to say goodbye. She wears the familiar smile that she always greets me with. It's too late to stop the tears. I run at her and she holds me in a tight embrace. I feel her chest rise and fall as she attempts to soothe me.

"I can't do it," is all I manage to choke out. My mother rests her chin on the top of my head and moves her hand gently over my hair.

"Listen to me," she says. "You are one of the strongest people I know, okay? You've been through a lot in your life, I know, and it isn't fair that you should have to go through this too. But, Ellie, you will go _through_ this. You have it in you to win, I know you do."

I clutch to the back of her blouse with my fists and nod. I don't believe it, but I don't want my mother to think I've given up before I've begun.

She pulls away and reaches into the pocket of her skirt.

"Here," she says, passing me a silver ring. "It was my mother's before it was mine, and now, it's yours," she closes it in my palm. "Be brave, darling" she says, just as she did before she left me at the Reaping. I didn't even notice, but a peacekeeper now stands in the doorframe.

"Time's up," he says. My mother gives me one last kiss on the forehead before the peacekeeper comes to take her away from me.

"I love you," she says over her shoulder.

"I love you too," I whisper, but it's too late, the door closes and she's gone.

* * *

I'm still hiccuping when the same peacekeeper that took my mother from me returns. He leads me back into the corridor where I see the rest of the tributes doing the same. I'm sure that my face is still blotchy so I tilt my head to the floor and allow my hair to hang over my eyes. I don't want the other tributes to know I've been crying.

We're taken on another walk through the building until we reach a small corridor with a single door at the end. It's so narrow that we're forced to walk in single file.

We enter a room that is just large enough to hold all twenty-four tributes and the peacekeepers that accompany us. The walls are draped with red satin and a small chandelier hangs from the ceiling. Four benches that match the walls are set in rows, facing a large window that overlooks the Capitol. We're ordered to sit down. This is odd. Usually, the tributes go straight from saying their farewells to the train that takes them to the Capitol. Obviously, we don't need a train this year, but that doesn't explain why we're here.

Caesar enters the room and heads towards the window.

"I'm sure you are all curious as to why we have gathered you here," he says. "As everyone is well aware, there are no districts for these particular games. Therefore, we have decided to pair each of you together in order of that which you were reaped."

Murmurs spread through the room. Several tributes scan the room for their new partner, but I don't need to. I already know that I'm paired with Jasper.

"Why do we need to be paired off?" the stumpy boy demands.

Caesar presses his lips into a thin line and pulls a face like he's tasted something sour.

"You will find that out in due time."

My stomach drops. If Caesar is being evasive, it must mean that the rule change has been done for the arena, and if it's been done for the arena, it won't be pleasant.

* * *

When we arrive at the training centre, peacekeepers escort us to the elevators. Being paired with Jasper, and being the last two to be reaped, means that we are sharing the floor that originally accommodated district 12.

A peacekeeper with short blonde hair shows me to my room. It's amazing. The room is so spacious that I'm almost surprised that I can't hear my own echo. There is a bed that's twice the size of my own in the centre of the room. It is suspended from each corner by silky vines so that, when I leap onto it and lie flat on my back like a starfish, it swings back and forth. If _I'm_ this impressed by my bedroom, I can't imagine what it must have been like for those from the districts.

I remain on the bed for a while, but I'm woken up before I even realise I fell asleep. Jasper knocks on the door to let me know that dinner is ready. I change out of my dress and put on a pair of cotton trousers that I find in the bottom drawer of a closet along with a plain white top and a thick, wooly cardigan.

I pull the sleeves of my cardigan over my hands as I walk to the table. I'm not cold, but it calms me to be wrapped up. The table is laid with countless amounts of Capitol delicacies and my eyes find the soup before I've even reached my chair.

I sit down across from Jasper and begin to pour some of the soup into a bowl. There's just the two of us. It was decided that not only do we not have escorts, we do not have mentors. It's been done as a way to punish the Capitol for their ignorance. We didn't help the districts, so the districts won't help us. Part of a mentor's duty is to try and gain sponsors for their tributes. A system has been set up so that, if people wish to sponsor us, it does not have to be done through the mentors. Nevertheless, a lack of mentors will likely decrease the amount of sponsors as there is nobody to advertise us to the Capitol.

"I don't know about you," Jasper says lightly, "but I was glad to find that I at least recognised the food. It's pretty overwhelming being here," I nod in agreement. I know that we've been paired together, but I'm still uncomfortable with the thought of getting to know him. One, or both of us won't make it through the arena and I'd rather not become friends with someone that I'll just have to watch die in a week.

The soup makes me feel warm inside, but it's an artificial warmth. It's tomato with bits of dumpling in it. My mother would always make it for me when I was sick, except she would add pasta to it as well. A pain goes through me. I guess I am sick, in a way. Home sick at least, and sick from fear.

After dinner I go back to my room. The Reaping is being replayed on the TV, but the thought of watching it makes me feel queasy. I change into a soft, flannel night gown and get into bed. It's only half past eight, but I'm completely drained and no doubt it will take me hours to fall asleep. I stare at the ceiling which has a swirly texture molded into it. I feel like I should be thinking up as many possible tactics and strategies as I can, but I don't even know where to start. Instead, I just lie still, letting the motions of the bed soothe me until, eventually, my eyes close.

* * *

I jolt awake. My dreams were filled only of muttations and psychotic tributes. I get up and walk towards the window; it's still dark outside. The clock beside my bed reads 5:08. I'm too shaken up to attempt sleeping again, so I leave my room and sit at the table. A peacekeeper with buzzed hair comes over with a tray holding hot chocolate and cookies and sets it down in front of me. I smile appreciatively. After the rebellion, it became the job of the peacekeepers to serve the tributes rather than the Avox's. I'm glad. Cutting out someone's tongue and forcing them to live a life of silent slavery is cruel - but that's just my opinion. At least peacekeepers _choose_ their career; usually.

I tuck my legs up to my chest and sit in the quiet, contemplating what the day might hold for me. It is the first day of training and I am totally and completely unprepared. The children of the districts tend to learn some survival skills in their day to day life because they are often forced to work from a young age. Being a child of the Capitol, I never had to do this and now I almost wish I had. I can't tie ropes, I can't make a fire, I can't climb trees, I can't hunt, I'm weak so I can't fight in hand to hand combat, I can't camouflage...

My thoughts are interrupted when Jasper comes out of his room. He's still weary eyed from sleep and his hair is sticking up at the back. He rubs his eyes and sits opposite me. "Morning," he says, gruffly. I reply with a small smile.

"There's hot chocolate if you want it. It's good," I say, and almost immediately, the same peacekeeper that brought me mine comes over with a tray for Jasper. He mutters a thank you and continues to address me.

"Are you ready for training?"

"I don't think I'll ever be," I reply. "I'm pretty much useless at everything."

He frowns and grabs an apple. "I'm sure you're not, we'll find something you're good at." He's trying to be friendly and reassuring. I should be appreciative, but I wish that he'd just leave me alone. The more he talks to me, the harder it is for me to pretend that he didn't exist. I don't reply and keep my eyes fixed on my hot chocolate. Jasper clears his throat before getting up.

"Think I'll go get changed," he says. "Training starts in half an hour, but I think it's best if we go a bit earlier." I nod, but don't look up.


	3. Chapter 3

When we reach the training room, we're told to make a circle at the centre so that we can be briefed before we go off by ourselves. My nerves kick in and my breathing becomes shallow. There's at least twenty stations, each occupying something different. I need at least a day on each station if I hope to understand anything, but I don't have that long. Although I knew I was unprepared, I didn't quite realize to what extent that was.  
Atala moves to the centre of the circle; clearly, she must have survived the rebellion. I know her face well. The Capitol like to make a big deal of the games, even off season, so Atala has done a lot of assemblies and presentations at my school.  
"For those of you who don't know me, my name is Atala and I will be your trainer for the next few days."  
From what I remember, she's one of the youngest people to become a trainer for the games. I think she was in her final year of education when I moved to the upper school which means she can't be much older than twenty-five. She was popular in school. It wouldn't surprise me if she knew some of the tributes this year. If she's training us again, I have no doubt that it's some cruel joke of the gamemaker's.  
"As you didn't take a train here this year, it has been decided that you will be allowed to have the day as an extra training day. Since I doubt any of you are prepared the way many tributes usually are, I suggest you make the most of it," she says. "Also, due to the rule change and you all now being in pairs, you will be referred to as 'teams' going one through twelve. For instance, Rodegen and Satia are team one, and Jasper and Elliana are team twelve."  
"So we're basically divided into districts? That's original," the stumpy boy retorts.  
Atala just glares at him. He should learn to keep his mouth shut... although he does have a point.  
"You will be required to go through everything from this point on as a team," Atala continues, "this includes training and the final interviews."  
She leaves the circle abruptly. We take this as a dismissal and everyone splits off in their newly formed teams.  
Jasper glances at me. "So, team mate, where do you want to start?"  
"I have no idea," I admit. "I don't know which is more important, survival skills or learning how to use a weapon."  
"Well," he says, "since we've now got four days instead of three, how about we split them evenly? We can do survival skills today and combat tomorrow, then repeat."  
I shrug. "May as well, I don't have any better ideas."  
We head over to the firemaking station and are each handed a pack of matches. Lighting a fire if you have matches to your disposal doesn't seem like rocket science, so I ask the trainer if we could just skip straight to using natural materials. He seems almost pleased that I don't want to waste my time on the easier things.  
It takes a long time before Jasper or I get a successful fire going, but I feel a sense of achievement when I do. We decide to skip knot tying and do it another day since both our hands have blistered palms from holding the flint for so long. We decide to try out our edible plants knowledge instead.  
It's almost pitiful how long it takes us to memorize each plant. I almost feel like I'm back in the classroom, preparing for a test. It's sort of weird how appealing the idea sounds now.  
Even though it takes us a long time to learn the different shrubs and flowers, I can't help but notice how few there are to learn. I was expecting a lot more than this. I don't know if that means anything, or if I just overestimated how much there was.  
The next day, we start off practicing throwing spears and axes. Jasper is pretty good with an axe. I try to use an axe to begin with, but it's too heavy for me to lift comfortably over my head. I keep trying, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it feels and the more my arms shake.  
I'm so weak.  
But instead of continuing to show the other tributes how frail I am, I move on to using a spear. It's definitely easier to wield than the axe, but I can't get it to balance properly and the best I can do most of the time is hit the dummy in the foot. It's embarrassing how bad I am with weapons.  
Rather than go back upstairs for lunch, there is a dining room connected to the training room where the tributes eat together. Jasper and I sit on a table by ourselves. It's interesting to see how the other tributes have adapted to the rule change. Some of them appear to have grown close to their partner and chat over lunch. I even hear the occasional laugh which seems unnatural, under the circumstances. Others, like Rodegen and Satia, sit in complete silence. Rodegen's lips are pursed together, he seems almost angry to be sat with Satia. I can't help but feel sorry for her - I would not like to be his partner.  
I notice that the two younger tributes I saw in the corridor are a pair. They both sit in silence, but they don't seem uncomfortable to be in each other's presence.  
To distract myself from them, I attempt at making conversation with Jasper. I don't ask about his family, because it's no doubt a sensitive subject, but I do learn that he has two siblings, both younger.  
"I'm glad I was the one to be reaped," he says quietly. "If I wasn't, it could have been one of them and I don't think I could have handled seeing Meradee up there, she's only twelve." We had the option to volunteer this year, as always, but nobody did. Very often children from districts 1,2 and 4 volunteer, but naturally there wasn't anyone quite so keen this year. I wonder if Jasper would have volunteered for Meradee. I try to change the topic.  
"I think I'd like to try using knives after lunch," I say. At least I've used a knife in my lifetime. I mean, the most I've done with them is cut up vegetables for dinner, but it's more than I can say about a bow and arrow.  
Jasper agrees so we head straight to the knives station after lunch. We are each given a set of twelve different knives. We start off throwing the knives at a target. Jasper misses a lot and when he does hit the target, the knife rarely sticks. I'm definitely better with a knife than an axe, but I'm still not good. I decide to make knives my weapon of choice.  
Jasper decides to try using a sword instead, since he's not having much luck with knives. I move on to using my knife on a dummy. I aim my first throw carefully, practicing first by going through the motions, but not throwing the knife. I can feel Jasper's stare in the back of my head. I probably look like an idiot, since I still haven't let go of the knife yet. I feel sorry for him. His partner is completely useless, has no confidence and hasn't even managed to throw a knife yet.  
Enough practicing.  
I take a breath in, and exhale as I throw. The knife lands between where the eyes would be. I stare at the dummy in disbelief. If that were a real person, the blow would have been fatal. I'm positive that it was a one-off, but a surge of hope still runs through me. If I can improve my throw, maybe I stand a chance against the others.  
We spend the next two days making our way around the stations until, eventually, we've been to all of them. Jasper has proven to be really good at throwing his axe and almost every hit is fatal. He's also pretty decent at using a sword. My knife throwing improves too, though I'm dreadful with pretty much every other weapon. I also discovered that I have a talent for making snares, so providing there's enough wildlife, starving to death hopefully won't be the way I die.


	4. Chapter 4

When I wake up it's dark again. Despite the ridiculously comfortable bed, I haven't had a decent night's sleep since before the Reaping. I stay in my bed for a while, twirling the covers between my fingers. Today we are having our private sessions with the gamemakers. I'm not quite as awful as I first thought, but my stomach still twists when I think about it.  
Eventually, I get up and sit at the table. Jasper is already awake and eating a bowl of fruit. I grab a pastry.  
"What do you plan to do today?" Jasper asks. I feel like I shouldn't be telling him, but he's been with me all the way through training, there's nothing he doesn't know.  
"Throw knives, I guess. I'll probably make a few snares too," I say.  
He nods. "I think I'll just throw my axe a bit."  
"Just your axe? You should use a sword too," I say. "You're good at it." It's probably a bad idea to be giving him tips, he's my competition, but it's proving difficult for me to dislike him.  
When we reach the floor of the training room, we're sent into the dining room to wait with the other tributes. We will go in one by one, boys first, starting with team 1 so I will be the very last to go through.  
It seems to be taking a long time for the first tribute to be called. Caesar enters the room.  
"Good morning, tributes," he says. I didn't realize that he would be coming before we went in. I assume he's here to give us some kind of prep talk.  
"Sorry for the delay, but there has been another rule change."  
_Another_ rule change? Why do they keep changing everything? "In fact, it is more like a rule _alteration_," Caesar says. "The previous rule change, requiring you to be paired together, now also requires you to ally with your partner in the arena. So I suggest you use today to prepare a strategy together." _Allies_? Not only are we partners, but now we're _allies_? I can't help but feel relief. This means I can stop avoiding Jasper. This means I might have a better chance of winning, if there's two of us.  
"Good luck, may the odds be _ever_ in your favour," Caesar says - the catch phrase for the games. He leaves and conversations begin to bubble through the room.  
"So we're allies then?" Jasper says with a smile.  
"I guess so," I reply. "Why are you smiling?"  
"Well, if _you're_ my ally, the odds are _definitely_ in my favour," he says, still grinning. I smile back, though I'm confused as to why he'd think that. I'm not hopeless, but I'm sure I'm not _good_.  
Rodegen is called into the training room. His hands are clenched into fists. I take a glance at Satia, her expression is unreadable, but she's white as a sheet.  
The room gets gradually emptier as each tribute goes through. I learn that the stumpy boy's name is Elod. He's in team 7 and is partnered with a tall girl with purple and silver streaks in her hair.  
A peacekeeper calls Jasper's name.  
"Good luck," I say.  
"You too."  
I'm left alone. I watch the clock as the minute hand moves from 4 to 7. I bite my nails to conceal my shaking fingers and by the time the peacekeeper calls my name, they're bitten down to the beds.  
I walk hesitantly into the training room. A few heads turn to look at me, but most of the gamemakers don't seem to notice that I've even entered the room.  
I head over to the knives and pick up a fairly large one; it's heavy, but the weight is familiar. I walk over to the target and aim my knife. Exhaling as I release it, I watch it spin through the air and land within the middle ring of the target. I smile. If I keep my throws at this level, I should manage to avoid getting a five or a six. I aim another knife and this time, it lands just above the centre. Even better. I move onto the dummy and choose a slightly smaller knife. This one hits the point where the heart would be, but it doesn't stick and falls to the floor with a clatter. A few gamemakers look up at the sound and then smirk when they see the knife on the floor. My whole face feels hot and tears burn at the back of my eyes.  
When I go to grab another knife I notice that my hands are now quivering. Not great considering precision is vital right now. I try to ignore it as I raise my knife, aiming for the same spot. If I miss again then I've ruined my chances, but if I manage to get even close to the mark that I've already made, I may still have some hope. I make sure to take extra care this time. I take several deep breaths and will my hand to stop shaking, then with as much force and speed as I can, I thrust my knife at the dummy. And it lands in the exact same spot! A grin spreads over my face in triumph.  
I move onto making some snares, since I'm pretty good at it and I don't want to risk missing the dummy again, but my fingers are still shaking and they fumble over the knots. It takes me nearly five minutes to get the snare finished. When I stand I can feel the heat returning to my cheeks and the tips of my ears. It shouldn't have taken me that long.  
"Thank you, Elliana." I don't know who the voice came from, but I take it as my dismissal and head towards the door feeling defeated. I feel a lump beginning to form in my throat as if I am about to cry, but I swallow it.  
When I reach the apartment, Jasper is already sat on the couch. I sit next to him and turn on the TV. It won't take long for them to televise our results. Caesar sits at a desk, accompanied by Effie Trinket, district 12's former escort. As far as I know, she is the only escort to have survived the rebellion. Their conversation is merely a mumble in the background.  
"So," Jasper says, turning to me. "How'd it go?"  
"I'm not sure," I say. "My knife throwing was okay, I think. Though one of my throws didn't stick which isn't good. My snare was awful. My hands were shaking too badly for me to make it properly. None of them were really paying attention either. What about you?"  
"Can't tell really," he says. "Nothing went wrong, but I'm not anything special." I don't respond. Instead, I turn my attention over to the TV.  
"...about time we announced the scores," Caesar says. Effie bares a smile, but it doesn't travel to her eyes. She's much quieter than I remember.  
The results are done very simply. Each tribute's picture appears on the screen and then the scores will flash beneath them. There is no commentary until after all the scores have been displayed.  
A picture of Rodegen appears on the screen and a number nine follows. His high score makes me feel uneasy. I wasn't counting on anyone getting particularly high scores. Even if this was a different year, that score would have been fairly impressive, but considering none of us - to my knowledge - have had any sort of training, it's a major achievement,  
Satia's whimsical face appears next, accompanied by a number six. Not great, but more like what I was expecting. The scores come fast. Most get around six or seven. A stern looking girl in team 5 manages an eight and a buff boy from Team 10 gets a ten which makes me feel sick. Elod only gets a four and the young pair, Team 9, each get a five.  
Jasper's face flashes onto the screen. Eight. That's pretty good. Yet again I am reminded why I am glad he is my partner. I just hope I don't hinder his chances of winning.  
I don't get a chance to congratulate him before my face appears. I take a deep breath in as my score is displayed. The number appears, but I don't see it. I just stare blankly at the screen. Jasper squeezes my shoulder lightly.  
"Told you the odds were in my favour," he says. The screen reads ten. _Ten_. How is that even possible? I'm clumsy and I'm not a fast runner. A week ago, I'd only ever used a knife to cut up vegetables.  
"I don't understand," I say. Jasper laughs gently.  
"You're good, Elliana," he says. "You're _really_ good."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry this is so long. There was a lot to fit in and I couldn't find a decent place to cut it. Hope you enjoy and please review!**

"Not much for a Capitol girl, I must say."  
"There's just nothing for me to work with!"  
"How can one be happy being so... _dull_?"  
A team of three stylists stand around me, examining every angle of my bare body. I can feel the warmth gathering in my cheeks. I've been stood here for at least half an hour and various comments about how unsatisfying I am are the only thing I've heard.  
"You're pretty boring, aren't you?" one of them says.  
Her eyes are emerald green and her skin has a slightly purple tint to it. Triangular green spikes that match her eyes protrude from her head in a vertical line. In comparison to her, yes, I am pretty boring.  
"We'll have to start with the hair," another says, handing me a dressing gown. I sit in a chair and allow them to pull and tug at my hair until they are satisfied. Then, one moves onto applying make up to my face, whilst the others take a hand each and begin to work on my nails, adding a small silver flower to each tip.  
Another woman enters once they are finished. She examines me briefly and then leaves again without a word. I am waiting for quite a while until she reappears, holding a blue dress. She helps me into it, along with some silver shoes.  
I examine the new transformation before me. It's as though I'm looking at a different version of myself. This version has beautiful, striking blue eyes that have been emphasised by dramatic black eyeliner. Her facial features are not as stern as mine, but instead, her cheekbones glow and make her face seem strong. Her hair has soft blue undertones and has been put up in a beautiful, intricate design that begins at the crown of her head and flows gently down her neck, coming to rest at her shoulders. The dress is fitted closely to her chest and then flows in ripples from her waist to just above her knees. It is accented with tiny silver flowers that sit on the left hip and right shoulder of the dress. She look sweet and young, yet strong and confident.  
This girl can not be me.  
Jasper is already sat on the couch in the living room when I enter. He is wearing a black suit with a blue shirt that matches my dress. His hair also has faint streaks of blue on the sides.  
His eyes follow me as I take a seat in the chair opposite him.  
"Wow," he says. "You look amazing."  
I can feel the heat gathering at the tips of my ears, I just hope it's not visible. I don't take compliments well.  
"Thank you. You look good, too."  
"All set for the interview?" he asks. I forgot that we are being interviewed together. What will we be asked? We hardly know each other and we haven't thought of a strategy yet, even if we had, it would be stupid to share it publicly.  
"Yeah, I guess," I reply. "As ready as I can be at least. There isn't really much that they can ask both of us."  
"That's true. Just answer honestly, I will be."  
I nod. "Let's go."

* * *

Jasper and I stand together behind the rest of the tributes. I hear Caesar's voice introducing Team 1 just as an image of Rodegen and Satia appears on the screen on the is dressed entirely in black so that his firey-red hair and eyes practically glow. His collar points upwards, covering his neck. Between his outfit and the evil-looking scowl he wears, I'm almost surprised that he doesn't also have a spiked tail coming out of his back.

Satia's stylists appear to have put the 'whimsical fairy' look into full effect. She wears a lilac dress that puffs out at her waist and stops above her knees and has a delicate piece of translucent fabric attached to the back to make her look as if she has wings. It is embroidered with flowers that twist down her side as if they are attached to a vine. The side of her face is decorated with swirls of black and lilac that start at her eye and end at her cheekbone. Her hair has been styled into soft pink curls, woven with the same flowers as those on her dress, which reach all the way down to the small of her back. She drifts onto the stage after Rodegen.

They are definitely an unusual combination.  
Rodegen answers most of the questions Caesar asks. He is clearly the leader of the team. However, Caesar seems to have sussed this out and begins to aim the questions at Satia, who is staring idly into the crowd.  
"So, Satia, what did it feel like to be the first female tribute?" he asks.  
"Like a dream," she says, without looking up. Her voice is airy and distant, as if she hasn't fully woken up from the dream yet.  
"Ah, yes, I'm sure it did seem that way," Caesar says. "And do you have any special talents that could help you during the games?"  
She glances at him. "I'm quite good at climbing. It's fun, really. Like I'm flying," she says, with a faint giggle. She twists so that her back is facing the audience and then wiggles slightly. Her wings look as though they are fluttering.  
"This almost seems rehearsed," Jasper whispers in my ear. I laugh a little as I watch the pair bow and exit the stage.  
"We might have to watch out for Rodegen," I say. "I don't know why, but something about him makes me kind of nervous."  
"I was getting the same feeling."  
I sigh inwardly, at least I'm not imagining it.  
"Those red eyes are definitely part of it. They just creep me out," he says.  
As the interviews progress, I get increasingly more nervous. My hands begin to shake when the girl from team 5, the one who scored an eight in training, comes on. I may have scored well, but I don't have the confidence of some of these tributes. She's so good at talking herself and her partner up that I almost feel obliged to sponsor them myself.  
_What do I have?_ I'm not confident, I'm not quirky, I'm not strong, I'm not brave, I'm not intimidating, I'm not funny. I'm so hopeless that my high score may actually be a bad thing. It means that I will be targeted right from the beginning and I've got no way to avoid it.  
I must be showing my emotions in my face because Jasper gives me a concerned look.  
"It'll be alright," he says gently.  
"I don't know," I reply. "I'm more boring than a sack of potatoes, nobody will sponsor me."  
I glance at him. Is he _smirking_?  
"What's so funny?" I demand.  
"Nothing," he says, shaking his head. "It's just... you're far from boring, Elliana."  
I would protest, but I don't have it in me to argue, and I can't deny that it's nice to know someone finds me interesting.  
I watch the screen as Elod hobbles onto the stage. He is wearing an orange wig this time - it matches the newly coloured streaks in his partner's hair. His voice is high and has a nasal quality to it. He is also very confident in himself, though so is his partner. The two practically fight each other to answer Caesar's questions.  
I don't really pay much attention to Team 8's interview, but when the young boy and girl come on for their interview as Team 9, my eyes are fixed to the screen.  
They are both twelve years old, but they've been dressed in a way that makes them look more like nine. The girl's legs don't quite reach the floor, so she swings them back and forth. She answers every question quite thoroughly, despite how nervous she looks. The boy is a bit more timid, but he answers his questions well. They both talk about missing their families.  
"And how do you two feel about being paired together?" Caesar asks.  
"Well," the girl begins, "Lloyd is really nice and we've become quite good friends."  
The boy nods. "We're the smallest, though," he says quietly.  
Caesar wipes his face, as if fighting off tears, and the crowd lets out a few sympathetic noises.  
"But it isn't entirely a bad thing," the girl counters. "We'll be able to do things that the larger tributes can't. Like hiding and climbing."  
I have to admire her optimism.  
"That is very true," Caesar agrees. "So don't count this team out, Ladies and Gentlemen."  
He rises and briefly embraces the pair as the buzzer signaling the end of their interview goes off.  
"I give you your tributes from Team 9!"  
I wish they weren't partners. If they had been paired with someone larger or stronger they might've had some hope. But the boy is right, they are the smallest.  
The next pair to come on include the large boy that gained a ten in training. They seem to have agreed to be elusive because they both give very short and vague answers. This makes me think that they probably have a plan that they don't want other people to know about. That, or they just want people to think that they have a clever, pre-planned strategy. Either way they've thought about this more than we have.  
It's our turn soon. I still have no idea what I will be asked or what I will answer. I'm quite sure that my score will come up, being one of the only two to achieve a ten, but I can't explain why or how I got it. I guess I must be better at knife throwing than I thought, but it doesn't seem like it's worthy of a ten.  
Jasper nudges me with his elbow. The buzzer has just gone off for Team 11. It's our turn.  
We walk onto the stage together. The lights are blinding and the cheers from the crowd deafens me. I almost lose my balance on the last step and grab Jasper's wrist for support.  
We take a seat on the couch which has replaced the single seat from the previous years.  
"I must say, Elliana, you look fabulous this evening," Caesar says.  
"Thank you," I say. I'm so quiet that I wouldn't be surprised if the microphones struggled to pick that up. I clear my throat.  
"So, what have you two thought of the training this year?" he asks.  
"It's been difficult," Jasper says. "There's a lot to learn in a short amount of time, the tributes from previous years did a good job making it look easy."  
"Ah yes, it is definitely challenging," Caesar says. "And what were your thoughts on the accommodation? Is it much different to your own homes?"  
"Very different," Jasper replies. "I guess that's not the answer people are expecting this year, since we're from the Capitol. But the rooms are much bigger and grander than home. The Capitol have clearly put some effort into it."  
"And what about you, Elliana?"  
I nod.  
"I think we were both glad to find that we recognized the food, weren't we?" Jasper cuts in. I nod again. I'm glad he keeps answering for the both of us. I can't help but think it's for my benefit, and I'm grateful.  
"I went straight for the stew," he continues, "Elliana had the soup."  
"The tomato one?" Caesar asks.  
I nod.  
"Ah, that's my favourite!"  
I'm grateful to both of them. I've barely said a word yet.  
"Let's talk about those impressive training scores, shall we?" Caesar continues. "An eight and a _ten_. Very impressive. Very impressive indeed, considering you are both from the Capitol."  
Jasper thanks him.  
"With scores like that, I'd imagine your team is a likely favourite to win, don't you think?"  
"We'll have to see," says Jasper. "Scores aren't everything, after all."  
"True," Caesar agrees. "Now, I must ask, what were your thoughts on Reaping day?"  
"During the Reaping or after?" Jasper asks.  
"Both."  
Jasper's face falls into the familiar frown that accompanies thoughts of home and his eyes drift to the floor.  
"During, I was praying that my brother and sister wouldn't be reaped."  
He breathes deeply.  
"After, I was thankful that they weren't."  
Caesar wipes away a tear. I lift my head to look at Jasper. He seems sincere. How is it, that at a moment when his life is essentially on the line, he was thinking not for the safety of himself, but of his family? I admire his selflessness.  
"Touching," Caesar says. "And what about you, Elliana?"  
"I was terrified," I admit. "And stunned. And distraught at the thought of leaving my mother."  
I can feel the tremble in my hands and try to conceal it by clutching the hem of my dress.  
"She's all I have."  
Caesar's eyes are sad.  
"And what about your parents, Jasper? Are you sad to be leaving them?"  
I can feel Jasper's body stiffen next to me.  
"Uh, well... My parents..." he swallows hard and takes a deep breath in before continuing. "My parents died when I was young. I live with my grandparents. But yes, it was hard for me to leave them."  
Caesar practically lets out a sob.  
I didn't know that. Jasper's face is stiff, and the line marking his jaw is tense, but he doesn't look sad. Is he... _angry?_  
The buzzer rings in my ears.  
"Well, I'm afraid our time is up," says Caesar. "Ladies and Gentlemen, your Team 12, Jasper Adkins and Elliana Fortrim!"  
Neither of us say a word as we head back to our apartment. An array of desserts and other snacks waits for us at the table. Jasper ignores the food and slumps straight onto the couch. He leans forward so that his elbows rest on his knees and pinches at the bridge of his nose, as if fighting off a headache. I'm not very hungry, so I follow and perch next to him.  
"I'm sorry about your parents," I say. I keep my eyes forward.  
He sighs. "It's fine, honestly. Like I said, I was young."  
The room remains quiet for a while.  
"My father died when I was three," I say. "I don't remember much about him, but some things are still there."  
There wasn't really any need for me to tell him that, but I feel like I can trust him. It's kind of nice to know someone who's gone through a similar situation. I don't feel like receiving the familiar 'kicked-puppy' look though, so I get up and walk toward my room.  
"Goodnight," I say over my shoulder.  
Jasper's head lifts slightly and the tension in his voice lessens. "See you in the morning."

* * *

Someone slips their hands around my throat in the night. They're soft and delicate, but their grip is powerful and I'm choking. I gasp for breath and open my eyes. I'm tangled in the bed sheets, but there is no hand around my throat.  
It's only half past four, but I don't even bother attempting to sleep again. Less than five hours and I'll be in the arena. I sit on the sofa in the living room, curl up and hug my knees against my chest. I stare into nothingness for a long time and eventually rest my forehead on my knees. Even though being allied with Jasper is reassuring, it could take days before I find him and the thought terrifies me. We may not even make it out of the bloodbath alive.  
Jasper emerges from his room. His face is sunken and the veins on his neck are strained. He looks how I feel. Silently, he sits down next to me and buries his face in his palms.  
"How am I going to find you, Jasper?" I'm barely audible, he wouldn't have heard me if he wasn't sat beside me. He lifts his head and looks me in the eyes. His expression hardens as he scans my face.  
"Don't worry about finding me, okay? Don't even think about me. Just run. I'll find _you_." He says it gently, but I take it as an order. I don't know how he can be so sure, but something about the way he says it makes me believe it too.  
I have no appetite, but Jasper makes me eat some toast anyway, we need our energy. I try to eat as much as I can because this may well be the last time I ever feel full. Jasper and I walk to the elevators in silence. We are headed to the roof where a hovercraft will pick us up and take us to the arena.  
When we get inside the hovercraft, a peacekeeper injects me with something, I'm told it's my tracker. My stomach lurches as we take off and I grab Jasper's arm for support. I don't want to admit it, but I feel steadier when he's with me. I sneak a glance at him through the corner of my eye. He is staring intently at a point just in front of him; I wonder what he's thinking about. Is he focusing on what may lie ahead of him? Is he thinking about his family back home? Of Meradee? Then I wonder why I'm not thinking about these things. I am about to enter the place where I will most likely die, yet I find my mind practically empty. I can't bear to think about my mother, alone at home, and I can't even begin to speculate what may be waiting for me in the arena.  
The launch room is completely empty apart from a single bench by the wall with a stack of clothes on it and the tube which will lift me into the arena. Once I've changed I examine my outfit; sometimes it gives hints as to what the arena may be like. I wear a thin vest that stops mid-thigh and a jacket which hugs at my waist. The jacket is very light, but the material seems like it has been made to maintain a certain amount of warmth. It is a light brown colour and, depending on how it is positioned, it reflects a small amount of the light that glows from the bulb above my head. My trousers are made of a similar light material to my jacket. I don't have any socks because the shoes I was given mold tightly to my toes. They are flexible, but don't seem to have much grip.  
I sit down on the bench. I don't know how long I have to be here for. I think of Jasper, waiting in his launch room. I wonder where he is. He could be right next to me, or he could be over a hundred metres away.  
I begin to panic about finding him. I don't even know where to look. Even if I find him we could be separated again easily.  
But then I remember what he said.  
_"Don't even think about me._"  
And I won't. I won't think about him.  
_"Just run."_  
I will. I will run as fast and far as I can.  
I begin to calm down a bit and my breathing steadies.  
_"I'll find you."_  
He will. Jasper _will_ find me. I trust him. I just have to give him a chance.  
A voice rings through the room. "Ten seconds till launch."


	6. Chapter 6

The cylinder closes and I'm trapped. I'm stuck in complete darkness, listening to the thump of my heartbeat in my ears, until the platform I'm stood on shudders and then begins to rise out of the ground.  
The sudden exposure to light catches me off guard and I find myself squinting with my hand shielding my eyes. It's hot. I can feel heat rushing through my body and I'm already sweating, but I can't let the weather distract me.  
I have sixty seconds. Sixty seconds until the gong sounds and we're left to our own destruction. I could be dead in less than five minutes. I scan my surroundings. A ring of sand dunes close us all into a circle like a crater, blocking whatever lies beyond them so I can only assume we are in a desert. I search for Jasper, but I can't see him. The Cornucopia must be blocking him from my view.  
_The Cornucopia_. I allowed myself to be distracted by Jasper when I _should_ have been searching for any signs of supplies I might need. There's a shiny black backpack about ten feet in front of me that I set my sights on. I know there's bound to be knives within the Cornucopia itself, but I can't risk joining the bloodbath. I'm not the fastest of runners and I need to get as far away from here as possible, but I also won't survive if I leave empty handed. I make the decision to run for the backpack just as the gong rings.  
I sprint as hard as I can for the bag. I reach it and loop the strap around my arm. I turn to run back in the direction I came and nearly smack straight into the girl from team 8. She's clutching a knife, but judging by the way she's holding it, she doesn't know how to use it. Her eyes are wide as she raises her arm. I lunge out of the way and she stumbles forward. I feel the blade of the knife cut into my shoulder, but adrenaline presses me forwards and I run for the dune. She doesn't seem to be following me.  
The deafening sound of screams follows me to the top of the dune. I carry on down the other side, but it's difficult to run on the sand and my legs give way. I roll down the dune and land in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Once I manage to stagger back to my feet, I try to decide on the best place to run to - except there's nothing but sand dunes.  
I begin to panic. Without any sort of vegetation, not only does it mean that there is next to no concealment in the entire arena, it also means that there is likely to be a very limited water supply.  
I decide to move in a slow jog rather than a sprint to retain as much water in my body as possible, hoping that the uneven terrain will be enough to hide me. The canons begin to fire, meaning the bloodbath must be over. It's shorter than I remember, I guess Captiol children aren't as willing to fight each other as previous tributes. I count the blasts until it reaches nine. I feel sick.  
It doesn't take long before a figure emerges over the dune behind me. Judging by their height and short hair, it's a boy. My throat tightens at the thought of fighting him. From what I can tell, he's carrying several weapons - I don't have any. There's no way I'll survive. But as he draws nearer I realise it's Jasper. I feel a sensation of relief._ He found me._ But then I notice his bright red face and he's panting. Something's wrong.  
I see him make a break towards my right. I chase after him as fast as I can over the dune, but the combination of the slope and the sand cause me to stumble and fall. I scramble to my feet just as an arrow whizzes over my shoulder. Jasper has reached the top of the dune.  
"Help!" I scream as another arrow buries itself in my calf. He declines down the slope slightly and I reach my arm out.

But he doesn't extend his.

Instead he aims his sword in my direction. His wild eyes fix on mine.

_How could I have been such an idiot?_ I think._ I trusted you_. I squeeze my eyes tight and brace myself for the impact.  
However, after several seconds of nothing, I open them again and hear a moan behind me. I glance around to see a girl, no more than fifteen years old, lying at the bottom of the dune, a bow in her hand, and a sword in her stomach. She isn't dead yet, but she's seriously injured.  
I understand now. He wasn't aiming at me, he was aiming at her. He _saved_ me. Guilt bubbles inside me, but I try to ignore it.  
With Jasper's help, we run. The girl's partner - if they are still alive - will likely be close by so we have to get as far away as possible. We don't get far before a canon fires, signalling the girl's death.  
We walk for a long time. Each step causes searing pain that jolts up my leg and spreads to my thigh. It doesn't take long before the pain causes black dots to flood my vision and I have to stop. Jasper sets me down at the bottom of a dune and I tear at my shin.  
"It's bad, right?" I say through clenched teeth, my voice breaking on the last word. I can feel the moisture gathering in my eyes.  
"I don't know," he admits, the words are strained. "I don't think it's very deep, but there's a lot of blood."  
I nod, a bit too aggressively. "Pull it out."  
He pauses. "Elliana... Are you sure?"  
It probably isn't a very good idea, but I can't spend my whole time in the arena with an arrow through my leg.  
"Just do it," I say, "and don't call me Elliana. My friends call me Ellie."  
It's not technically true. Only my mother calls me Ellie. But the name reminds me of her and though the thought of her is heartbreaking, it also gives me a sense of comfort. Jasper frowns, but he sighs and pulls it out. I grit my teeth and a noise between a yell and a sob escapes my mouth. He apologises repeatedly and wraps a gauze around my leg. I notice that he has a gash on his left cheekbone.  
"What happened to you?" I ask, gesturing to the cut.  
"I ran to the Cornucopia to get us some weapons and Rodegen took a swipe at me," he explains. "It's nothing."  
"It looks like more than nothing to me."  
"I'm _fine_," he insists - even though he clearly isn't. Blood from the cut has smeared across his face and is still dripping down his neck. I don't understand why he refuses to have it tended to. What is he trying to prove?  
"Well can you just humour me and let me clean it up? It could get really bad if sand gets into it." I try to say it casually and make it sound like it's for my own benefit to protect his ego or whatever, but even though I really am concerned about it, the actual sight of it doesn't bother me in the slightest.  
Jasper eventually agrees to let me look at it. It doesn't look nearly as bad as it did before. However, even though it's much smaller and shallower than I initially thought, I'm almost certain it will leave a scar.  
We agree to check through our supplies as we're already sitting down. My pack contains a bottle of water, a small piece of rope, a foil blanket and what's left of the gauze. Not much. Jasper, however, was much more successful. He managed to grab a set of knives, an axe and a dagger at the Cornucopia - he lost his sword during the attack - and he also picked up another, slightly larger pack as he left. His pack holds another bottle of water, some iodine, some pain medicine, two sets of goggles and several packs of dried meat.  
We distibute the supplies evenly, just in case we get split up, but Jasper keeps the axe and the dagger, and I keep the knives. We agree that our biggest priority at the moment is finding water. It will be difficult to find since we're in a desert, but the gamemakers tend to include some kind of water supply ever since the year when half of the tributes died from dehydration. Delerious tributes are far less entertaining than a gruesome hand to hand fight.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is kinda boring. It's mainly just a filler chapter, the next few chapters are a bit more interesting, I promise! Thank you again for reading and please please review because it would honestly make my day!**

Jasper helps me to my feet and we begin walking again. I've had some of the pain medicine, so although my leg still hurts a lot and we have to walk at a very slow pace, the black dots that were obscuring my vision have subsided.  
"You know, when you threw your sword at that girl, I almost thought you were aiming it at me," I say quietly. I wasn't going to bring it up, but the thought was eating away at the back of my mind.  
I can see Jasper's head turn towards me in my peripheral vision and he stops moving for a second.  
"Elliana - _Ellie_, sorry - I would never turn on you, alright? _Never_." He says it firmly and his face is stern, but there's something else. He almost looks... _offended_?  
I nod my head, but don't look at him.  
He pauses. "I'm just sorry that you don't feel like you can trust me yet."  
Surely he can't believe that? But his expression hasn't changed and the words sounded sincere.  
"I do!" I protest. "That's why when I saw the sword I felt like a complete idiot. Because I _trusted_ you and, from where I was, it looked like you decided that you didn't want to be allied to me anymore and thought that you were better off without me."  
Now he really looks offended.  
"I wouldn't blame you," I say weakly. "If I was forced to ally with someone completely hopeless, I might consider killing them too..." My voice trails off and he lets out a sound that can only be described as exasperated.  
"You just _don't_ get it do you?" he snaps. The sudden change in his tone of voice surprises me.  
"I don't understand, get what?"  
"I've told you over and over again, but you don't _listen_! You're really good. In fact, you may well be the best out of everyone. Don't you get it? _I'm_ the one who should be concerned about keeping up. _I'm_ the one that's lucky enough to be put with such a skilled person." He sighs and his tone softens again. "You just underestimate yourself and it's frustrating sometimes."  
I want to fight back, but what he said and the _way_ he said it caught me off guard and I don't even know how to respond.  
We walk in silence for a long time.

* * *

"I'm sorry," he says after a while. "I shouldn't have let myself get so wound up. I just _wish_ you'd have more confidence in yourself. I want you to see what I see."  
"Let's just forget about it," I say bluntly. It's probably not a good idea to tell him that I still completely disagree with everything he said.  
Jasper eyes are fixed on his feet and a look of disappointment registers on his face, but he nods.  
"I don't think this is the best way for us to find water," I say, changing the subject. "We're just walking aimlessly."  
Jasper pauses briefly, as though processing the fact that the previous conversation ended, probably before he wanted it to.  
"You're right," he replies, "I think it'd be good to head back to the Cornucopia. I'm pretty sure the dunes that are around it are the highest. We've got the best chance of finding anything from there."  
"That's a good idea," I agree, but then I realise something. "But what if people are set up there? I know there aren't careers, but that's usually their favourite spot."  
He frowns. "That's true. Although the Cornucopia is completely surrounded, it's not exactly an advantage point. Besides, pretty much our only other option is to die out here from dehydration. It's our best shot."  
I agree after a while. The idea still makes me a bit nervous, but he has a point. The only other problem is that we've been walking for the good part of eight hours. Even accounting for the slow pace we've adopted and the sand, we're probably at least nine miles from the Cornucopia and it'll start getting dark soon. We won't make it all the way back.  
After what I guess to be an hour, dusk begins to set in. It's such a beautiful scene. The sun sets streams of pink and orange that flow across the horizon ahead of us, whilst behind us, the moon has become visible and even the occasional star. It feels strange to be in equilibrium with the two. The moon seems bigger than usual and I can't help but wonder if I'm looking at the actual moon or some kind of projection.  
I hadn't really noticed until now because the pain in my leg was so intense, but my head is throbbing and my mouth feels sticky. The early stages of dehydration are already setting in.  
We agree to stop for the night. Despite being in the middle of a desert, my teeth are chattering from the cold. I guess with the sun gone there's nothing providing warmth to the surroundings. I lay my injured leg straight out infront of me, but pull my right leg tightly to my chest. I'm desperate to retain as much warmth as I can. I notice now that my left pant leg has changed colour from beige to a dark red from blood. It looks like some kind of bizarre Capitol fashion statement.  
"I think we should drink something," Jasper says. "We have those bottles and rationing the water's not going to help us if we've passed out from exhaustion." I can tell just by looking at him that he's dehydrated too. His lips stick together when he talks and his eyes don't seem to fully focus. We each have half of our bottles. The water is warm and feels thick as it flows over my tongue, but it makes me feel a bit better anyway. Hopefully the other side of the Cornucopia has some sort of water supply, otherwise we have a problem.  
"You're shivering," Jasper says.  
"I'm okay," I insist, but Jasper ignores me. He sits next to me and wraps an arm around me, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. It feels weird to be this close, but he's so warm that I push whatever reservations I have to the back of my mind.  
We break apart when the Anthem begins playing. My body stiffens as I anticipate the recall of today's events. I don't especially want to know who's dead.  
The first picture to appear in the sky is the girl from team 2, meaning both tributes from team 1 and the boy from 2 are still alive. I feel a shred of disappointment when I realise that this means Rodegen is still out there, but it's immediately followed by guilt. Did I really just wish a child dead? He might not come across as especially friendly, but who am I to judge whether he deserves a fate like that?  
The girl from team 2 is quite young, probably about fourteen. I hope she died quickly, without any pain. An image of a boy with the number 3 underneath follows. His partner seems to still be alive.  
The next image to appear accompanies a number 4 and belongs to the girl that shot the arrow through my leg. The girl that Jasper killed. I look at him and his face is ashen. I think there are tears in his eyes, but I can't tell in the dark. I want to comfort him, but I don't know how, so I just rest my hand on his knee and give it a slight squeeze. He lays his hand briefly on top of my own and squeezes back.  
"Thank you," are the only words I can think of. It seems a strange thing to say, but I meant it and he should know that. He saved my life and I'll always be grateful.  
The boy from team 5 is also dead, along with both from team 6. Team 7 are both alive. I can't deny that I'm surprised that Elod made it out of the bloodbath. The boy from 8 is dead. His partner however, the girl who tried to stab me, doesn't appear.  
An emptiness creeps through me when an image of the little girl from team 9 is displayed. I don't want to cry or scream or anything like that. I just feel empty. She shouldn't have had to die. Then I think of her partner, who was so quiet during the interviews and looked so scared. Now he's by himself.  
The numbness doesn't go away with the next face, it merely increases. Both tributes from team 10 are still alive, which makes me think that maybe they did have a strategy after all. Both tributes from team 11, however, did not make it.  
The Anthem ends and we're left in total silence. I feel numb and my whole body has become heavy. It's as if seeing all the faces of these poor children just drained any feeling I used to have out of me.  
Ten tributes died today. Fourteen are alive. Thirteen of them are against me. There are three other teams still alive, meaning there are six other tributes with significantly better odds of winning.  
"I'll take first watch," Jasper says hoarsely. I try to refuse and offer to do it myself, but I'm starting to realise that there's no point with him. He just tells me that I need the sleep more than he does.  
"Fine," I say, I'm not exactly upset about going to sleep. Maybe this numb feeling will be gone when I wake up. "But you have to wake me as soon as you're tired, alright?"  
"Alright. Just go to sleep," he replies. So I lay my head down on my pack and fall asleep within seconds.


	8. Chapter 8

It is still dark when I wake up. The pain in my leg has intensified again, but I try to ignore it. I don't want to be shown as weak. I can barely see in the darkness, but I can still feel Jasper next to me. He doesn't appear to have moved all night.  
"You must be exhausted," I say. "Why didn't you wake me up?"  
"I didn't want to wake you," he replies. "I'm fine, honestly, go back to sleep."  
"I'm up now, and you need to sleep too. I'll wake you when it starts getting lighter," I say.  
He agrees and lies down. His breathing steadies in a few short minutes and I'm sure he's asleep.  
I don't want to admit it, but it makes me anxious to be on guard. I can't see more than a few feet ahead of me. If someone wanted to come and kill the two of us, they wouldn't have much of a challenge. I'm just glad Jasper is next to me so that I can wake him if I need to.  
I hate it being so quiet. There's nothing to distract me right now from reality and I can't keep my mind off my mother. She's alone now. Her parents died a few years ago when I was twelve and she has no siblings. With my father gone, she wasn't able to socialise like she used to and she quickly drifted from her friends. She'd always tell me she didn't mind and that I was all the company she needed, but there was always a sadness in her voice and a longing in her eyes that didn't fool me.  
After only an hour or so, the sun begins to rise. I told Jasper I'd wake him at dawn, but I hadn't realised how soon that'd be and he can't go his whole day on one hour of sleep so I decide to leave him for a while longer. However, it doesn't take him long before he's awake again.  
"You didn't wake me?" he demands.  
"I was fine," I say. "And despite what you might think, you need sleep too."  
He doesn't attempt to argue with me for once. He runs his fingers through his hair and rubs his eyes before standing up.  
"Well, I guess we'd better make a move," he says.  
We didn't get very far last night, I doubt it was more than three miles. We won't reach the Cornucopia until well after midday and by then we'll be seriously dehydrated. Nevermind the fact that it'll probably take us at least another hour before we reach an actual water supply - and that's being optimistic.  
"How's your leg?" Jasper asks.  
"Fine," I lie. I avoid looking at him in case he susses me out, but he already has.  
"I don't believe you," he says and rummages around in one of the packs for the pain medicine. The throbbing lessens almost as soon as the liquid touches my tongue and I let out a relieved sigh.

* * *

The walk back to the Cornucopia feels endless. Black dots have been creeping across my vision for the past hour or so and I've started to feel so faint that Jasper now insists on keeping an arm around me as we walk. It's becoming increasingly difficult for me to place the transition from one event to another, making me think I've probably been blacking out without realising it.  
Jasper seems to be holding out better than me, though I can still tell that he's not doing very well. His eyes keep flashing open as if he's struggling to stay awake and though his grip around me has not faltered, it has definitely lessened. His mouth hangs open and his lips are pale and cracked. We're both extremely dehydrated.  
We shouldn't be very far from the Cornucopia by now, but the effort required simply to drag one foot in front of the other is enormous and I'm starting to doubt that we'll even make it there before sundown. My legs feel heavy yet weak and I brace myself for a fall each time I put a foot down.  
The black spots dance their way across the full length of my vision and their numbers increase rapidly until I see nothing but blackness. I try my hardest to keep walking, despite being blinded, but I only manage two steps before my legs fail and crumple beneath me.  
It takes a while for my vision to return and when it does I see Jasper leaning over me with the familiar concerned frown on his face. It takes a long time for me to even realise that I'm lying down.  
"Are you alright?" I hear Jasper ask. The words sound slow and muffled, as though someone is cupping their hands around my ears. I feel like all my senses are somehow delayed. I assume I must have just passed out, since I can't link together the moment between standing and lying on the ground.  
Jasper puts a water bottle in my hand and watches me until I've emptied it. I try to push myself into a sitting position, but my arms can't take the pressure and I collapse onto the ground again.  
"Just stay still," Jasper croaks.  
He's getting worse. I try to tell him to drink his water too, but no sound comes out of my mouth. He won't drink it unless he's forced to, I know that much. I use all the energy I can muster to grab the pack that's next to him.  
"What are you doing?" he asks, but I ignore him. I pull out his water bottle and drop it on his lap. I can tell by the look he gives me that he's understood.  
"I think we should stop here," he says after finishing his drink. "You're clearly exhausted. Go to sleep for a while and once you're up, we'll move again." I still can't speak so I don't argue. Maybe he's realised this.  
I struggle to sleep for long because one of the tributes insists on invading my dreams. She chases me along the top of a dune for a long time until I fall down the side. I haven't even stood up again before she flashes in front of me, and I finally see her face; swollen cheeks that are limp and drooping, cracked lips covering blood-stained teeth, held in a grimace. Despite the fact that the piercing purple eyes have been replaced by dark pits, I know it is the girl from team 4 - the dark red stain by her abdomen tells me as much. Her head cocks to the side as her grimace turns into a smirk and she raises her bow, ready to fire. I jolt awake just as she releases her arrow.  
It's dusk now. The sun is gone, but the sky is not yet dark. The throbbing in my head is weaker than it was and I feel a bit stronger than before, though just as tired. Jasper looks worried as I sit up. I guess the effects of the nightmare have masked the fact that I actually considerably better.  
"I'm fine," I say before he can ask. "Just a bad dream. I feel better though, honestly." He doesn't look entirely convinced, but he doesn't question it.  
"Do you think you're able to walk for a bit?"  
"Yeah, I think so."  
"Great," he says. "I have a good feeling that that dune over there is the one surrounding the Cornucopia." He indicates to a very high dune in the horizon. I haven't seen one that size yet and I think he might be right. I hope he is.  
"I reckon we'll make it there in good time if we keep a decent pace. Maybe an hour?" he says.  
I nod and stand up. We can't really afford to rest tonight, not now that our water supply is gone. Our best chance of survival right now is to keep going.  
Sure enough, darkness has only just set in when we reach the bottom of the dune.  
"Here we are," I say. Anticipation flows through my body. If the odds are in our favour, we'll be able to see some water somewhere. I try to ignore the fact that there could be a walk as long as four hours awaiting us or the fact that the terrain is more than likely just going to be more sand dunes. We might not even be able to see anything once we're up.  
The dune seems much bigger now that we're close - at least twenty feet high. My legs feel shakey under the strain so I'm glad when Jasper's arm closes around my waist, supporting me. He brings my arm around his neck and we walk together.  
The sand continuously shifts beneath our weight so that what would have been two feet on solid ground only equals to about half a foot on sand. It's frustrating how long the climb takes.  
Jasper stops me just before the top of the dune and lies flat on his stomach. He's checking for other tributes. He peers into the cavern tentatively and his reaction is surprising. He just looks confused.  
"Hey, Ellie," he whispers, beckoning for me to come over, "look at this."  
I copy him and lie on my stomach. I shuffle upwards until I can see over the top of the dune. I understand his confusion now.  
The Cornucopia is gone.


End file.
